Rating:: PG
House:: Schnoogle
Characters:: Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Hermione Granger Ron Weasley Sirius Black
Genres:: General Action
Era:: Multiple Eras
Spoilers:: Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:: Published: 12/12/2002

Updated: 12/28/2002

Words: 87,376

Chapters: 20

Hits: 40,339

Harry Potter and the Heir of Gryffindor

venus

Story Summary:: Things aren't exactly as they seem during Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts. Aside from there being romance in the air, discoveries are made, secrets are revealed and Harry embarks on an adventure that he will never forget.

Chapter 10

Chapter Summary:: Things aren’t exactly as they seem during Harry’s 5th year at Hogwarts. Aside from there being romance in the air, discoveries are made, secrets are revealed and Harry embarks on an adventure that he will never forget.

Posted:: 12/20/2002

Hits:: 1,795

Chapter Ten: Dudley Dursley

The plan wasn't going to be as easy as Harry had originally thought. He soon discovered just how stubborn of a person Ron Weasley was. He tried everything -- positively everything in a desperate effort to convince Ron to ask Hermione.

By the last week before Christmas break, all the Gryffindors had their dates lined up-- even several Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were now going as well. There were only three dateless people: Harry, Ron and Hermione. Looking back, Harry realized that he probably overdid things-- hinting to Ron at every possible opportunity that Hermione had been staring at him, smiling at him, practically inviting him to come and ask her to the party.

And then, Thursday morning, he could have kissed Professor Warwick. She arranged for the students to pair off in a study group and she placed Ron and Hermione together. Harry almost butchered the potion he was making with Neville, because he kept staring at the interaction between the two: he saw a smile-- a smile from Hermione! There was hope after all!

The class adjourned and Harry bounced out after them, pushing through the other students. When he reached Ron, he couldn't see Hermione anywhere.

"So?" Harry prodded.

"So what?"

"You two looked rather cozy there--"

To Harry's surprise, Ron stopped dead in his tracks. "This is the last bloody time that I'm going to tell you this, Harry, so listen with both ears! I-do-not-like-Hermione-Granger! I don't care if you think she likes me, and I really don't care if you're convinced that the two of us have some kind of cosmic destiny-- I don't like her! And what's more, I wouldn't ask her to that party if you paid me a hundred Galleons! So just drop it, all right?!"

Ron stormed off in a fury, leaving Harry quite speechless.

And then there was a horrible, loathing pit forming in Harry's stomach. He slowly turned around and saw Hermione standing right behind him, her hands clutching her schoolbooks tightly, her eyes wide and watery-- she looked as though she'd just been slapped across the face. And really, with Ron's scathing words, she may as well have.

Their eyes met for a brief moment and Harry's heart sank to the floor as Hermione closed her eyes and silent tears streamed down her face.

"I told you that you were off your rocker, Harry," she managed to get out before taking off in a dash through the corridor.

Harry thought back to the last time something like this had happened: it was their very first year at Hogwarts, and Hermione had overheard Ron calling her names and she'd run off in much the same manner she just had. Hermione, for all her tough exterior, was still just as sensitive as any other fifteen year old girl. The last time she'd run off, she'd locked herself in the girls' toilet. Harry was almost positive that's where she was headed once again.

He ran after her.

He ran to the girls' lavatory closed to the Gryffindor common room, bursting inside, not caring whom he offended.

"Hermione? You in here?"

Parvati Patil screamed.

"I'll take that as a no."

He heard Parvati call him a 'snake' as he ran out. The only other option was . . . Moaning Myrtle's toilet-- a place he hadn't been to since his second year. He ran down three flights of stairs to the toiled, ignored the "out of order" sign that still hung on the door and burst inside. At first he thought it was Moaning Myrtle making the noise. . . but then he realized that those cries most certainly did not belong to a ghost.

He threw open a stall and found Hermione leaning against a wall, her arms folded tightly, eyes downcast.

"Go away, Harry."

Harry, still rather winded, took a deep breath. "No."

She looked up, her eyes read and then, without warning, rushed past him out of the toilet.

"Hermione!" He called after her. She should have known he would catch her, and when he did, he clung to her arm. She pulled with all her might, shouting for him to let go, but it was no use-- he was much too strong for her.

She surrendered to this fact, and still breathing heavily, brought her hands down to her side. They were standing in the deep shadows of a hallway, slits of light from the large windows at the end of the hall weaving in between the dark shadows like cross-stitching. The only sound was the deep breathing between the two of them.

It was Hermione who spoke first. "I shouldn't have listened to you, harry. You actually made me . . .believe that it was possible."

Harry was careful, knowing he was treading on thin ice. "So . . . I was right. You do like him."

"Well of course I like him!" She nearly shouted, the tears welling again. "I've liked him since. . . oh hell, why did he have to be such a git last year."

"You liked him last year?"

Yes, I fancied him, all right? But now. . . oh Harry, why is he so cruel to me? Doesn't he know that I . . . feel the way I do? Is he really that bloody thick?"

Harry was perfectly quiet and let her get everything out.

"I mean, all he had to do last year was ask me. That's all-- I would have backed out on Krum in a heartbat. But Viktor, well, he paid me the attention the Ron never would. He spoiled me and treated me in a way I knew Ron never would. And I reasoned that I was stupid to wait for Ron to change his mind about me-- I knew that was impossible. So I forced myself to like Viktor. And for a while, Harry, I really did like Viktor. he was so . . . good to me. 'Herm-own-ninny' and all that. Ridiculous, eh? But, all the while, I knew I was fooling myself. All Ron had to do was ask-- but insted, what was I? A last resort. And he completely shunned me."

"He was jealous, that's why."

"I don't care what he was, he was downright mean." She ran her hands through her hair, the sunlight still finding its way into her locks-- even in the darkness, she was still lovely. "Bloody hell, harry, things are just so damn confusing."

"Confusing," he repeated slowly.

"Yes. . . one minute I'm dancing on air because he's actually smiled at me, the next I'm writing in my journal, tearing myself to pieces, telling myself that I'll never be good enough, then the next minute I'm convince I hate him, and then. . . and then . . ."

"Then you're right back to liking him all over again."

"Well . . .yes. . . and, well . . ." her tired eyes rose to meet his. ". . . then there's you too."

Harry felt his knees nearly go out from under him. His voice was caught in his throat, but he finally forced out the words "What do you mean"?

Hermione was visibly having just as much trouble getting her words out as well . . . but once she finally found her voice, she closed her eyes tightly and blurted it all out: "I mean . . . well, oh hell Harry, to be perfectly honest, I fell for you the very first time I met you on the stupid train. I was star-struck, as deplorable as that sounds, it was the truth. Every bit as bad as Ginny-- only I was much, much better at hiding it. I could get myself out of it, and then you'd have to go and so something so damn wonderful. Something so damn heroic. Last year after the Triwizard Tournement, I kissed you on your cheek and I felt as though I could have died on the spot."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. No, this couldn't be Hermione telling him this! After all the years they'd been such close friends-- it just wasn't possible.

She opened her eyes and held Harry's stare. "I know there's no point in telling you this . . . and I think tomorrow morning I'll want to kill myself for ever admitting any of this to you. But . . . a girl can only keep so much inside before she bursts. And what Ron said today, well, I guess that just did me in." She took a deep breath. "But, at least now I know the truth."

"The t-truth?" Harry stammered-- his heart was beating so violently, he was sure Hermione could hear it.

Or was that her heartbeak?

Yes. At least I can get on with my life now. After all this time of agonizing over Ron, I know exactly how he feels. And . . well, now I know how you feel also." She looked down and bit her lip. "How a terrible a person am I Harry-- last year with Viktor, when I closed my eyes and let him kiss me for the very first time in my life, I couldn't decide who I'd rather have it be: you or Ron." Another tear threatened to fall down her cheek.

Harry didn't know why he did it. Maybe because there in the shadows, Hermione looked so very pretty-- like an angel-- and he knew angels weren't supposed to cry. Or was it because deep down inside he'd wanted to do it every bit as much as her? Whatever the actual deciding factor was, he let his hand come to Hermione's cheek and wiped away the tear with his thumb.

With every silent tick of the clock, his gaze upon her intensified, until he felt himself slowly-- oh so slowly-- bending down over her. He brushed her cheek with his lips, placing a soft, safe kiss there. Hermione's hand grabbed hold of his sleeve and she clenched it tightly.

"No, please Harry, please. I can't take it any longer." She stood on her top toes and placed her lips firmly on top of his.

Harry had most certainly never felt what he did at that moment. Every last sensation in his entire body was thrown into its highest state of awareness. Senses he didn't even know he had. The softness of her supple lips against his was a thing he'd never known-- and at the same time, it was as though he'd known it all his life. Somehow, he knew what to do. His left hand found its way through her hair, the vast softness of her locks, and he stroked it-- it was almost as pleasurable as the tingles shooting like fireworks thoughout him. She was sweet to the tongue-- so warm and real-- and he wanted nothing more than to keep her in his embrace, pressed so closely to his body, and to taste her in all her loveliness as he was then.

And then . . .

"No," he said, softly at first, his voice muffled by Hermione's kisses. He opened his eyes and said in a firmed, undeniable voice, "No, Hermione."

Hermione, out of breath, stopped and looked up at him. He released her. It took every ounce of self-control in his body, raging with sensory overload, but he released her. She was staring up at him, bewildered.

Harry cleared his throat. "This isn't right. You know it, just as much as I do. This just isn't right. I can't do this to Ron. He's the one who is in love with you. It isn't fair-- not to Ron, to you or to me."

Hermione was silent. Her eyes were studying him, trying to understand.

Finally, she let out half of a smile and said, in a quiet voice, "Noble Harry Potter." She sighed and looked down. "Please don't hate me for that, Harry. I don't know why I did that to you--"

"No, Herm, don't apologize-- it's just that--"

"I know. I know. And you're right, Harry. Of course you're right. I . . . lost my head for a moment and . . . I'm sorry." She paused. "You . . . don't have to worry about what we agreed earlier about your taking me to the party if Ron didn't ask me. I understand--"

"No," Harry insisted quickly, "No, Hermione, you know I'll be happy to take you. I told you I would and I will." He smiled. "We'll have a blast!"

Hermione smiled, looking thoroughly relieved. She nodded. "Right. . . okay, then. Er . . . see you at dinner, then."

Harry watched Hermione disappear down the hall into the blackness of the shadows, his heart still pounding in his chest, barely able to believe that he'd just had his first kiss.

He couldn't even feel his feet on the floor as he walked down the corridor, alone, his mind reveling with everything that had just happened. And whom should he find walking briskly towards him, but Sirius!

Great-- I actually need to talk to someone right now!

"Sirius!" Harry said, smiling, "am I glad to see you right now--"

But Harry's smile faded almost immediately and he knew something was wrong. Very wrong. "Sirius? What is it?"

Sirius slowed his pace and looked down at his Godson, his face was pained and his mouth thin and solemn. At that moment, in the darkness of the corridor, he looked as troubled as he had when he had first escaped from Azkaban. The silence was absolutely unbearable.

Sirius removed his glasses and took a deep breath. "There's been . . . a development."

"W-what sort of development."

"I've just come from Dumbledore's office. He summoned me to his quarters just this afternoon with urgent news. It appears that there has been an escape from Azkaban."

Harry's heart stopped beating. "An escape? But then-- oh Sirius, no! Azkaban hasn't been--"

"No, it hasn't been opened up, no. In fact, there isn't any evidence directly relating the escape to Voldemort at all except for who the escapees are."

Harry's stomach was churning, dread consuming him. "Who was it who escaped?"

"The Lestranges."

Harry remembered Voldemort's voice as clear as though he'd said it only yesterday, 'The Lestranges will be honored beyond their dreams.'

"Oh Sirius, he must be behind it! I heard him say that he was going to release the Lestranges! I heard him--"

"I believe you, Harry, and Dumbledore and myself both know that he is behind it all."

"Well! What about the Ministry? Aren't they going to do something about it?"

Sirius sighed. "That's doubtful, Harry."

"Doubtful?! But where do you think the Lestranges are going to go now that they've broken out? Straight to Voldemort! The ministry has to do something now!"

"I know that! You know that! But Fudge? Oh you know how he is, Harry . . ."

"Is he still being stubborn?"

"As stubborn as ever."

"But why?"

"He's scared." Sirius sighed. "And so am I. Look Harry, Dumbledore is going to want to tell you personally, but he thinks it best for you to go home for the holidays. You know, with the Dursleys."

It was the worst news he'd ever heard in his life. "What? Sirius, please--"

"I know that's upsetting, but Dumbledore would just feel better with you safe at Privet Drive right now-- "

"Why," Harry said anxiously, "is something horrible going to happen--"

"Don't fret, my boy," said Sirius, smiling for the first time. He squeezed Harry's shoulder supportively. "It's just a precaution, that's all. Dumbledore, myself and others you don't even know of are working tirelessly to make sure that . . . that nothing happens. I assure you of that: we're working tirelessly."

Harry nodded and after a hug, the two separated their ways. He trudged back up to the common room, his spirits utterly deflated.

Hedwig was the bearer of bad news that evening to Sophie.

Well, it looks like our plan has backfired. Today said in no uncertain terms that he did not like Hermione. It looks like I'm going to be taking Hermione to the party instead. It was a great idea, Sophie, it just . . . wasn't meant to be, I guess. And by the way: I'll be staying at Privet Drive for my entire Christmas holiday, so I'll get a nice visit with you all.

The next day, he received this reply:

Don't worry Harry, I understand completely. I just received an owl from Ron asking me if he could act as my escort to the party. He practically begged me, so I couldn't say no. I can't pretend that I'm not disappointed, though. I wanted someone else to ask me . . . but what can you do? Oh well, we tried, right? Delighted to hear you'll be staying here at Privet Drive! Can't wait to see you next week!
Love, Sophie.

***

It was the strangest feeling: Harry sat on the half empty Hogwarts Express, heading back towards the Dursleys at a time when he was used to celebrating being away from them-- Christmas. He reluctantly stepped out of the train and back into the Muggle world, the weather bitterly cold and the faces of the passer-bys focused and unfriendly.

He scanned the crowds hoping against hope that Imelda and Roger had come to take him back. But scanning the crowds he found no one-- not a single soul that he knew. Exasperated, he parked his case at a bench underneath the sign "Platform 9", took a seat and waited . . .

and waited.

Nearly two hours had passed by the time he realized that someone was talking to him.

It was Aunt Petunia, face rigid and cross as usual. "Get up, you lazy loafer, let's get going! I haven't all day!"

Wordlessly, Harry stood up and with his suitcase in one hand, Hedwig's case in the other, followed her through the crowds out of Kings Cross Station and towards where she had parked the car. Harry knew better than to ask where the rest of the family was-- any questions posed by Harry were viewed by Petunia as disrespectful and rude.

They arrived at Privet Drive and Harry was stunned to find that the Dursley's living room looked . . .festive. There was a large Christmas tree covered from top to bottom in sparkly ornaments, piles and piles of meticulously wrapped packages lay beneath it and the house just smelled of . . . well, of Christmas. Of course, it was no Hogwarts, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

"Don't see why you need to bring that ruddy bird with you everywhere you go-" Petunia was muttering angrily as Harry trekked upstairs. Dudley came out of his room and-

Harry had to do a double take!

Dudley looked . . . thinner. It wasn't a drastic change or anything, but it still took Harry by surprise! There was a shape to his face now, one of his chins had disappeared completely-

"What are you staring at," Dudley challenged.

"Y-you . . . look really good, Dudley." Harry winced somewhat, expecting a violent reaction from Dudley for even speaking to him. But instead, Dudley just looked walked past Harry and muttered "thanks."

Harry went into his room and sat on his bed in complete shock. "Thanks?!?" Dudley never even said 'thanks' to his parents let alone to him!

You must have heard him wrong, Harry. No way that Dudley actually told you thanks. . .

When Petunia called for dinner, Harry was careful with everything he said to the Dursleys-Dudley in particular! That small gesture of civility had really scared Harry! After dinner (which Harry was sure to compliment Petunia on) he washed down the dishes and tidied up the kitchen before venturing into the living room.

Dudley sat alone in his usual spot, feet on the coffee table, watching some silly sitcom. Harry walked quietly to the furthest chair away from him and took a seat. They watched the television in silence for a good deal of the evening.

Then Dudley spoke. "You have your own telly at school?"

It was so unexpected that Harry at first thought that he'd simply been imagining it. But when Dudley repeated the question, Harry just about had a heart attack. Dudley Dursely was talking to him?

He managed to find his voice. "N-no. No television there."

"That must be boring."

"N-no," Harry could have told his cousin that a lot of wizards have never even touched a television set, but he decided it a lot safer to simply say, "there's other stuff to do."

"Like what?"

There wasn't exactly an overwhelming interest in Dudley's tone, but that wasn't the point! Dudley was carrying on a conversation with Harry! One that didn't involve screaming the words "git" or "prat"! And what really blew Harry's mind, was that Dudley was asking questions about Hogwarts-- a place that was never talked about in the house!

Why was Dudley doing this? Harry was still trying to keep his cool. "Oh, well. . . there's a really popular sport everyone gets into-it's like a huge rivalry between all the houses."

Dudley didn't say anything right away, but then he said "And?"

And? He wants to know more?

"Er . . . w-well, on weekends we get to go visit a nearby village with lots of shops and sweet shops and the like." Harry smiled at the thought of Hogsmeade. "I have some friends who are going to be opening up a joke shop there soon-and there's this drink they have called "butterbeer" that is absolutely brilliant."

Harry sensed that he was perhaps saying too much, so he quickly stopped.

After another long silence, Dudley said "cool."

COOL?!? Dudley Dursley thought that something to do with the wizarding world was cool?

Oh no, I must be hallucinating! There's no way that he's actually saying these things!

And just like that, it was over. Dudley got up from his chair and walked up the stairs for his room, leaving Harry wondering if he was losing his mind or not. . .

The next morning Harry awoke to Aunt Petunia barking at him to cut her bushes back in the garden. He'd wanted to drop by the Banbury's that morning to say hello, but he instead went outside into the freezing cold to pull back Petunia's severely overgrown bushes.

"Psst! Harry! Is that you?"

Harry looked up to find Sophie peeking at him from overtop the fence-she was on her tiptoes and all Harry could see were her hypnotic brown eyes. Everything inside of him leapt at the sight of her. Which was most odd because that only had ever happened before with Cho. And he definitely didn't like Sophie the way he'd liked Cho . . . right?

"Sophie!" He cried, standing up to meet her at the fence. "How are you?"

"Brilliant--oh it's so nice to see you again!"

"And you."

"Come on in! Mum's at work, but Dad has the day off work and we'd love to have you for tea-"

"Oh," Harry paused, "Er. . . I'd love to, you know, but I doubt Aunt Petunia would be too happy with me 'spreading my germs' as she calls it."

Sophie shook her head. "Oh dear, I dunno how you can stand it, Harry."

"That makes two of us. . ." he paused, "Hey, have you noticed anything . . . different about Dudley lately?"

There was a twinkle in Sophie's eyes. "Ohhhh. You mean the new and approved Dudley Dursley?"

"So you've noticed it too?"

"Well," she started. "Er . . . wait a sec." Harry watched her turn a garden bucket upside down and stepped on top of it so she could see the whole of Harry's face. "See. . . it all started after you went back to Hogwarts. He came over and he . . . asked me out on a date."

"No," Harry oohhed. "Dudley Dursley asked you out on a date?"

"Yup. He certainly did. So I sat him down and had a nice chat with him. I told him how very flattered I was as I never really had been asked on a proper date before, but I simply wasn't ready for any kind of relationship at the time. He asked me if I thought that when I was ready for a relationship, would I be ready for one with him."

"What did you say?"

"I told him the truth. I said to him, 'In all honesty, No, Dudley. I wouldn't.' I told him that we were two very different people-"

"You can say that again!"

"--- and that if I were ever to want a relationship with someone, it would be someone who shared similar interests and ideas as me-and someone who treated others with the same kind of respect he'd show me.'" Sophie winked. "I threw that in, of course, just to let him know that I did not approve of the way he treated you."

Harry blushed. "W-what did he say?"

"Well, he took it very well, and I told him that I'd love to be friends, and he said 'of course.'"

"Sophie Banbury! You broke Dudley Dursley's heart!"

She ignored him, "and anyway, after that . . . well, he started changing. He wasn't into trouble at school near so often as he was before. And when he talks to me, he. . . I know this is going to sound outrageous, but he acts as though he's really interested in how I'm doing!"

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "I just can't believe it. . . he actually asked about Hogwarts last night."

"No!"

"Yes! Unbelievable! If only he knew that the girl he likes is a witch!"

They laughed.

"Now tomorrow night, everyone's arriving by Floo Powder, Mum's arranging for our house to be added to the network again, and I expect you have devised a way to get out of the Dursley's house?"

"I figured I would just tell them that Roger wants me to help with some handiwork about the house. They'll always let me out if it involves my working."

Sophie smiled. "Good. See you tomorrow then!"

"Of course!" Harry lingered for a moment. . . he'd wanted so very much to ask her who she'd wanted to be her escort, but decided against it. It didn't matter because he didn't like her that way. . . right?

That is precisely what Harry repeated to himself all evening up in his room. He took out the invitation and stared at it absently, his eyes lingering on her name. . . no, he most certainly did not think of Sophie that way . . .

The door opened and Harry nearly let out a yelp when Dudley walked in. He quickly put the invitation under his pillow, but not before Dudley spied it. It was rather hard to hide: the glowing letters were turning Harry's pillow purple and pink!

"Hey," said Dudley quietly.

"Hey." Harry scanned the room quickly for anything he could use in self-defense in case Dudley decided to pounce on him.

Dudley was staring at Harry's pillow, his eyebrow raised. "What's that under your pillow?"

"Huh? Oh! Er. . . .nothing, just . . . something from school."

Dudley took a step forward. "Can. . . I have a look?"

"NO!" Harry shouted immediately, and then added quickly, "no, er. . . really, Dudley, it's nothing. It's from Hogwarts." Harry clearly enunciated his school purposefully, hoping to repel him away.

But Dudley remained focused. "Really, I'd . . . like to see it."

"No, don't think you do, Dudley!" Harry couldn't let Dudley see it! Sophie's name was on it! If he saw the invitation, then he would know that Sophie really wasn't the muggle he thought she was! And who knows what would happen!

"Oh come on Harry," said Dudley. And then. . . he took a breath and said the word Harry never in his wildest dreams thought he'd hear from Dudley:

"Please?"

PLEASE?!? What in the hell had come over that boy! That simple, small word rendered Harry speechless and before he realized it, Dudley had reached under the pillow and pulled out the invitation.

Dudley's eyes widened upon seeing the glowing letters. Harry almost thought he saw him mouth the word "wow" but he wasn't sure. Harry winced again and braced for the reaction. . .

"Sophie?" Dudley repeated quietly. "She's having a Christmas Party tomorrow?"

Harry was mortified.

"I didn't get an invitation."

"Well," said Harry nervously. "That's the thing, Dudley. You see . . . only, er, a certain sort of people are invited."

Dudley blinked.

"Only . . . er . . . my sort of people."

There was something in Dudley's eyes that seemed to tell Harry he understood this.

"From your school," Dudley said.

"Yes." Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "Oh hell, Dudley, I wish that I didn't have to be the one to tell you this because . . . I know how fond you are of Sophie and how your Mum is so fond of Mrs Banbury. . . but . . . " he took a breath, "Mrs. Banbury and Sophie are . . ."

"They're witches," Dudley finished.

Harry stopped and stared at his cousin. "Y-yes."

"Yeah. I thought so."

"You thought . . . but . . . how?"

Dudley looked back down at the invitation, his expression still difficult to decipher.

"By accident."

Dudley let a mischievous grin slip out, and Harry was at once very interested. "D-Dudley? What did you do?"

"Well . . . my bedroom happens to be parallel to Sophie's."

Uh oh. "So . . . well, she's been known to leave her curtains open by mistake."

"You spy on her?!?"

"It was only one time Harry, I swear to God. And she was writing with a quill on a roll of brownish paper. I've only ever known you to do that. And then I saw Mrs. Banbury walk in with this barn owl on her arm, and Sophie put the letter into the owl's beak! And. . . I know that's what your owl does when you want mail delivered. . ."

Harry swallowed. "So then. . . you knew she had to be a witch."

He nodded. "I was almost positive. I just wanted to hear you say it."

"And yet you . . . still fancy her?"

He nodded again.

"Even though you know what she is?"

"I know. . . Mum and Dad would kill me."

Harry couldn't help it--he really couldn't! He smiled at Dudley and said, "No-Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would kill me first. Then they'd kill you." It was a tremendous moment. The two cousins looked at each other and . . . laughed! Dudley barreled over and let out great, heaving laughs and Harry threw his head back and grabbed his stomach. Harry spoke the honest truth and they both knew it: for the first time in their lives, they shared something in common! The held a common link! Harry was agog with it all-if this was a dream as it simply had to have been, he glad to be having it!

Dudley finally calmed down and wiped a tear from his eye. He still couldn't look at his cousin in the eye, but he was now able to say what he meant. "It's been hell, you know. These past three months you've been gone, I've had to keep this secret to myself. . . just glad it's out."

"Listen," said Harry, "Er . . . you and I . . . we haven't exactly been what I would call friends."

"Not in the slightest," Dudley nodded.

Harry did not want to ruin the moment, and it was such a complicated situation so instead of gushing on about feelings, he said "and there's . . . so much between us, namely your Mum and Dad, but . . .this is good. Just talking. Not feeling obligated to have a relationship, but . . . just talking."

Dudley finally was able to look at his cousin. "Yes. Talking is good." He paused, "and . . . since I found out what Sophie was and realized that I've fallen for a girl who is just like someone I've spent most of my life hating . . ." he took a breath. "I owe you an apology."

Harry's mouth fell. "N-no, Dudley-"

"Oh just shut up Harry, because I'm not gonna say this again, all right? I've been getting myself ready for this for the past two months and you're not gonna ruin it." He took another breath. "I'm sorry."

Harry wanted to say a million different things. (and yes, 'It's about time you bloody prat", "you have the nerve after what you did to me" and "you ruined my life, go eat slugs for all I care" were all amongst his choices.) But he knew that no words were the best words.

Besides. . . the most amazing thing had started to happen . . . Harry was feeling compassion for the bugger.

And then, just when Harry thought that no more surprises were possible, Dudley said to Harry, "So. . . er, do you think Sophie would mind if I came to her party tomorrow?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Oh! Er, well, I dunno Dudley. You do realize that the only mugg-er, I mean, non-magical people would be yourself and Mr. Banbury."

"Obviously, yeah."

"A-and you're okay with that?"

"Yeah. It sounds like . . ." Dudley searched for the right word, "it sounds like fun."

"Fun," Harry repeated, still trying to believe he was talking to the same person he'd grown up with.

"But, you know, you're the one who is invited. I doubt you'll want your. . . what's that word you use? "Muggle" cousin around . . ."

Dudley did have a point. He was looking forward to spending time with his friends. . . but with the given change of events . . .

"I'm sure Sophie will be delighted to have you come."

When Harry told Sophie everything that had happened the night before, Sophie was every bit as stunned as Harry. She said that there was no reason why he couldn't come, but she was more concerned with how Harry would handle it than anything else.

Harry told her not to worry. With all the blackmail Harry now had on him, there was no way Dudley was going to cause any problems with him around.

Dudley had told his parents that he and Harry had been invited to the a Christmas Party at the Banbury's for the evening. Vernon and Petunia seemed apprehensive to let Harry go along, but Dudley insisted and they, of course, ceded.

Harry had pulled out his best black trousers and a charcoal gray jumper he rather liked. He was never impressed with what he saw in the mirror, but admitted that tonight he wasn't entirely hopeless looking.

Dudley had spent an incredibly long time getting ready. He came down in dressy black trousers and a dressy deep maroon shirt, with his shoes shined to the finish. It didn't look like the same Dudley any more than it sounded like him.

Harry met Dudley at the bottom stair and all Dudley said to him was, "So when are you going to get rid of those bloody ridiculous glasses?"

They left the house together and Harry smiled. "I happen to like these bloody ridiculous glasses. Oh, wait here."

Harry looked anxiously out into the street. "I told Hermione to meet me here at exactly five minutes till."

"You told Hermy who?"

"Hermione-she's my date for tonight."

Dudley let out a grunt. "Soooooo. Harry's got a little girlfriend, does he?"

"No, it's not like that."

"Let me guess-- she's one of your best friends, right?"

"Well, she is!"

"Right."

"--actually, tonight was a set up to get her and my other best friend together. The plan didn't exactly work out, though. So I'm her date--where is she?"

And just as the words left his lips, a car came driving up the block. Sure enough, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were driving and as it pulled to a stop, Hermione jumped out of the back seat. "Be back around eleven, Mum! Bye Dad!"

The Grangers drove away and Hermione hurried to Harry's side, shivering in her black overcoat. They gave each other a hug.

"Sorry-- Mum and Dad had a hell of a time finding this place." She made a very obvious point of looking Harry up and down. "Wow! Harry! You look fantastic!"

Harry blushed and, sensing his unease, Hermione quickly added lightheartedly, "Didn't think you had it in you!"

"Oh s-stop it, Hermione. And of course you're lovely as always-er, H-Hermione, I'd like you to meet . . . my cousin."

Hermione's eyes grew wide staring at the smiling blonde boy in front of her. "This," she said in disbelief, "is Dudley?"

Harry realized that Hermione, along with everyone else at Hogwarts, knew Dudley as his insufferable, bully of a cousin. He gave her a look that said 'its okay'. "Dudley, this is Hermione."

Dudley raised his eyebrow, "Sorry? Did you say Herm. . ."

"Herm-eye-oh-nee," she said phonetically. Don't worry, no one ever gets it right." They shook hands. " Can we get inside? Before I die of frost bite?"

Harry took her arm and the three knocked on the Banbury's door. Sophie flung the door open, all smiles.

She looked positively . . .

"Wow," Dudley whispered in Harry's ear.

Wow indeed! Sophie was wearing a dress that was hopelessly muggle: spaghetti straps, soft pink and it flared gently at her knee. Her hair was pinned up intricately with pretty silver pins. Harry's voice caught in his throat.

"Hi," he said as easily as possible, and Sophie greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

She smells so sweet . . .

"And you too, Dudley, wonderful to see you." She gave Dudley a peck on the cheek also, and then looked at Harry again-a twinkle forming in her eye similar to Hermione's.

"Looking suave tonight, Harry!"

"Doesn't he?" Hermione piped up, "I told him that too! And Sophie, I love your dress."

"Oh! Thanks! You know that muggle store Zara, right? Here let me take your coat . . ."

Sophie and Hermione embraced like long lost sisters and Sophie took her coat from her . . .

And when Harry saw Hermione, well, talk about being rendered speechless. It was the Yule Ball all over again, only this time she wasn't hiding beneath those dress robes. Standing before him was a Hermione who was a mere ghost of the little girl he'd known before. She was wearing a long black dress that seemed to fit in all the right places just as the sun always seemed to hit her hair in all the right places. It scooped low in the front, showing off her creamy skin and her soft, sun kissed tendrils climbed luxuriantly down her back.

Hermione was obviously aware of Harry's shock, so she merely kept on conversing with Sophie.

"Impressive, Harry," Dudley was whispering. Harry gave him a look that warned 'shut up'! A loud boom sounded from the fireplace and the familiar green smoke rose into the air. Dudley had suppressed a scream and Harry turned to him,

"It's okay. It's called "floo powder". Lots of our kind travel using it-- inexpensive and easy, although I don't particularly like it."

"What, they just poof -- appear in fireplaces just like that?" Dudley's mouth was hanging open as he saw four people step out of the fireplace and start to wipe the soot off their cloaks.

"Well . . . it is magic, Dudley."

Speaking of magic-- the Banbury's living room was absolutely swimming in it. Gone was the semblance of their living room. Instead it had been transformed into a large room that was bathed in soft, warm light, snow framed the windowpanes even though no snow had fallen yet, and a gorgeous crystalline chandelier hung in mid air, rainbow reflections bouncing off the walls. In the corner of the room was the Banbury's enormous Christmas tree-- which was also covered with snow-- and red stockings, stuffed full with stocking stuffers, hung across the mantle place. Happy, festive music mingled in with the gentle chatter between the friends who had already arrived, and the periodic "Ahhs!" when someone new came in through the fireplace.

"And who is that," said Dudley upon the latest puff of green smoke. A pretty girl in a deep navy blue dress was running her fingers through her siren red hair.

Harry smiled. "That is Ginny Weasley. . ." he paused. "Oh. . . er . . . Dudley, you've actually met her before. . ."

"No, I would remember meeting her--"

Harry was suddenly worried. The Weasleys hadn't exactly left a good impression with Dudley when they'd last met. Fred and George had cast a spell which made his tongue swell to frightening proportions and it was quite a task for Mr. Weasley to put it right.

"Them!" Dudley cried as Fred and George came out after Ron (Angelina Johnson had arrived with Fred and Padma Patil came with George.)

"Hiya Harry!" said Ron gleefully upon sighting his friend and came swiftly to his side, the Weasleys close behind. "All right? Any--" his voice trailed and he stared at Dudley in complete disbelief. George had begun to shout 'what the hell is he doing here' but seeing the look in Harry's eye, he held his tongue.

"You all remember Dudley, of course?" said Harry pleasantly.

"Of course," said Ron, throwing Harry a 'what the hell' kind of look.

"Hello," Dudley said, with much difficulty to sound as civil as possible.

"And hello to all of you."

Harry turned around to see Imelda Banbury standing next to him, dressed in that favorite lavender dress of hers, with Roger at her side. The dress looked different, however-- it hung as it hadn't before. Indeed, Imelda was looking quite thin and there was a tiredness about her eyes that was very noticeable. Her hair wasn't it's usual, soft, floppy self, but was much straighter and shorter. In short: she looked as though she'd had a very rough past few months.

Harry was determined not to show Imelda that he noticed the change, and threw her a hug. "It's so good to see you," he said.

"And you," she said and then took her hand to his face. "Let me look at you." She smiled upon his face-- her eyes staring at him just long enough to make Harry a bit uneasy what with all his friends watching. "Yes, yes," she said, "all grown up already."

"It's only been three months!"

She shrugged. "Has it? It feels like an eternity." She turned to Dudley and the Weasley clan. "And . . . I do not believe I know all of you."

Sophie cut in, "I've only just been meeting them as well. This is Angelina Johnson, Padma Patil and Colin Creevey. And of course you know the Weasleys already, and Dudley."

"Dudley," she repeated, "I don't remember his name on your guest list-- but I am glad you decided to come, my boy."

Dudley smiled. "You've done wonders with the place, Mrs Banbury."

"No, credit goes to my little Sophie, not me."

Poor Imelda, thought Harry. She even sounds tired. As though she's really a million miles away. Harry could only guess how hectic life was at the Ministry now that the Lestranges had escaped. If he'd had to deal with cleaning up Cornelius Fudge's mess, he'd look just as shattered as Imelda did.

Sophie stuck to Ron as her escort, although Ron did look rather helpless as to exactly what he was supposed to do. What really humiliated him was when Dudley had to finally go and get Sophie a drink after Ron had failed to get her several hints about it. Hermione and the Weasleys were both stunned at the news of the unexpected metamorphosis of Dudley Dursley. Fred and George still didn't seem entirely convinced, but all of them had to admit that it was a vast improvement. And Harry even admitted that it was rather fun watching Dudley's wide-eyed wonderment at everything he saw: from the hanging chandelier to the snow on the window panes to the conversation that he listened to, filled with words he'd never heard before.

And when Seamus arrived (the last one to arrive actually) with Hufflepuff Hannah Abbot, Dudley was at once convinced that kids were kids-- whether wizarding or muggle-- because Seamus made the announcement that now the real party could start as he had brought a bountiful supply of Butterbeer. The kids roared in excitement and there was a rush for the delectable drink. Harry watched happily as Dudley took his first sip, his eyes went wild with excitement, and he chugged the rest of it down.

Dudley had found a talking partner in Dean Thomas as Dudley's favorite football team was Liverpool, and the two had a terrific time going back and forth over the reasons why Fulham was pants compared to Liverpool or vice-versa.

"Having fun, my dear?" Imelda was talking to Harry once again and he smiled.

"Absolutely."

Imelda took her fingers and brushed Harry's hair away from his eyes. Her voice was hushed. "So very like your mother."

Harry snapped to attention. "My mother? You knew my mother?"

Imelda's smile was tired, and her voice distant. "Yes. . .we all knew your mother. People say you look like your father, but I see your mother-- you have that innocent beauty she had. . ." Imelda was a million miles away. "We went to school together, did I ever tell you?"

"No." Harry was hanging on every word.

"Yes. . . I admit that she and I were not the best of friends. . . I suppose I though myself better than she. . ."

"Oh," said Harry, remembering his mother was muggle born. "Is that because of who your family was?"

"When we are young, we never see things clearly," she said quietly. "It is only with time that we see the entire picture and realize how important that is."

Harry wasn't too sure what she was trying to say, but he agreed nonetheless. After one last look, she smiled and walked away.

"Hey," said Sophie coming up beside him with Ron. She was holding onto a half empty bottle of butterbeer and nodded towards her mother, "she looks terrible, doesn't she."

"I didn't want to say anything, but . . . yeah."

Sophie grimaced. "The change was all very sudden-- very drastic. I think that everything going on with the ministry has really hit her hard."

"My dad as well," said Ron glumly. "Fudge is in a panic over what to do about the Lestrange's escape."

"He should have listened to Dumbledore," said Harry. "he warned him that something like this would happen."

"Something like what?" said Dudley happily, joining the conversation.

Sophie gave him a warm smile, "that we'd run out of butterbeer so early in the evening! Seamus should have known to bring more!"

"Oh, it's bloody fantastic, this stuff!" Dudley had most obviously had more than he should have: his face was turning bright red and his voice was quite loud. "They need to sell this stuff in our stores! Make a bloody fortune, it would!"

"Hey," said Ron, "anyone seen Hermione?"

Harry shook his head.

"Hmph. Some escort you are, Harry," said Ron.

Sophie's face brightened and she threw a wink at Harry. "Er. . . actually Ron, I think I sent her to help my Dad with something out back-- would you mind checking to see if they have everything under control? Please?"

Ron didn't protest and promptly left for the back garden.

Harry and Sophie smiled at him as he left. "See?" She said, "He just dropped everything. I don't care what you say, Harry, the boy is obviously smitten."

"I'll say," Dudley spoke up, "his eyes have been on nothing else all night. What, he's trying' to prove to the world he doesn't fancy her?"

They nodded.

"The silly sod. He's doin' a right sloppy job of it."

"I wish he'd just get over his pride and admit it. . ."

"He'd better hurry," said Dudley, looking irritated that his butterbeer bottle was now bone-dry. "Someone's gonna snatch up a looker like her sooner or later. That reminds me, Harry, you will give her my phone number if Ron ever moves on to someone else."

Sophie snickered. "Men. Muggle or Wizard, they're still the same."

The party gradually fell to a close-- it was well after midnight when the last guests left the Banbury's. Hermione's parents had come at half past eleven and she'd given Harry a bear hug and a 'thank you' for what she called a 'wonderful evening.' The Weasleys filed out and soon after them, Harry and Dudley decided to embark on that treacherously long jaunt home.

"I'll tell ya one thing, Harry," said Dudley as they walked through the slumbering Dursley household and climbed up the staircase, "Hogwarts must not be all that bad when you've got talent like that there..."

"Dudley," said Harry warningly.

"... I mean, there's Sophie for one thing, that Ginny-- too bad she's a Weasley. They all think I'm evil-- dunno, maybe I am. And of course, there's your 'not-a-girlfriend'..."

"I mean it," he said again, trying to blow over the fact that Hermione's appearance had disturbed him more than he wanted to admit.

Dudley laughed and opened the door to his room. "Night, cousin." He shut the door and then swung it open quickly again, just enough to reveal his still red face. "By the way-- Happy Christmas." The door slammed shut quickly leaving Harry alone.

"Happy Christmas," he whispered quietly in the hall. He walked into his room, a smile still on his face, wondering if in the morning Dudley would return to his former terror and hoping against hope he wouldn't-- it was nice having a friend so nearby.